The One With the Orange Sofa
by greenish orange
Summary: [Complete] Rachel finds a key. CM.


**A/N: **Seriously, this idea came out of nowhere. It's very, very random, in some respects, but I've never seen this done in any stories or on the show, and I would have loved to see it. So, I took the liberties to write out a scene that I personally enjoy. I hope you guys will too. Oh, and background info – no one knows about Monica and Chandler.

-

"You will not _believe_ what I found!" Rachel exclaimed, after bursting through the doors of Central Perk and nearly knocking over a waitress in her haste. She flung her coat down on the arm of the sofa and watched her friends with shining eyes, pausing a moment to gulp air as she clutched at a stitch in her side.

"The Eighth Wonder of the World? Amelia Earhart? The cure to Cancer?" Chandler listed off casually.

"_No_," Rachel said impatiently, "but I know what I _didn't _find, and that was my inflatable sheep, which I really want back soon, if you don't mind."

"Touché," he responded, as Ross and Joey exchanged worried looks.

"So what'd you find?" Monica asked eagerly.

"Well, I was cleaning –"

"You were _cleaning_?" Chandler asked dubiously. "Without _Monica_?"

Rachel stuck out her tongue at him and Monica slapped his thigh. "As I was saying – I was cleaning out some of my old stuff, and it was the weirdest thing . . . you guys remember when I was a waitress here a few years ago – well, I think I accidentally stole a key to the coffeehouse!"

"Oh my God!"

"How'd you get it?"

"They gave _you_ a _key_?"

Rachel nodded. "I guess, I don't know. I tried it out on all the locks, even in Chandler and Joey's apartment. And at first, I thought it opened that green closet by the bathroom, Mon, but it didn't fit there either. So, then, I thought – where else would I have a key to?"

Monica looked skeptical. "So you assumed it was a key to the coffeehouse?"

"Well, that, and it said 'Central Perk' on it," she replied sheepishly.

"Good thing you didn't waste time trying to fit it in all the locks when you knew _that _information," said Chandler sarcastically.

"Yeah, good thing," said Joey, nodding his head. Chandler stared at Joey in disbelief.

"You amaze me, Joe," said Chandler.

"Hey, thanks man."

Chandler spared one last dumbfounded look at Joey and asked, "So, Rach, what are you going to do with it?"

"She's going to return it, obviously," said Ross immediately, amid groans from the others. "I'm sure it's illegal. You haven't worked here in years!"

"Ooh, but it's so cool!" cried Phoebe. "It's like owning a little slice of corporate pie. We could be like a covert society of shareholders, owning the world coffeehouse by coffeehouse – it would totally be a hit on the big screen."

"Yes, Phoebs, along with our _sitcom_, 'The Daily Dramas of Over-Caffeinated Friends'," Chandler said disdainfully. "Besides, we nearly own this place anyway. I pay more money to drink coffee than I do to pay taxes. There should be a plaque with our names on it – you know, like – _'Many thanks to Ross, Monica, Chandler, Joey, Rachel and Phoebe, our kind sponsors'_ or something memorable like that."

"Yeah, we deserve that key," said Phoebe. "It's like our right as the loyal coffee-drinking patron people."

"But it's illegal!" Ross protested.

"Good point," said Rachel, fidgeting nervously at the prospect.

"But no one knows about it, right?" said Joey from his chair by the sofa. "So it wouldn't really matter."

"Another good point," said Rachel ambivalently. "Urgh, I don't know, someone decide."

"Just keep it," said Monica quickly. Everyone looked at her. "Some of the paintings get a bit crooked sometimes – it would help me sleep easier," she explained.

"Okay, fine, I'll keep it," Rachel decided. "But if the cops come to lock me up, I'm taking all of you down with me."

"Not me, I'm against it," Ross reminded her.

"Especially you," she said, and ordered her coffee.

-

"Here we go," Monica muttered, turning the key in the lock, "and . . . aha! We have ourselves a dark, secluded, secret place with plenty of room and coffee for stamina!"

Chandler looked around the room nervously, as if expecting Gunther to slide out from under the counter. At a small noise, he jumped, and Monica rolled her eyes. After glowering at her, he turned and stared at an abstract painting of a clown with narrowed eyes. "So, let me get this straight. When everyone promised not to use the key for any evil intents and purposes, you just crossed your fingers and laughed?"

"Oh, c'mon, stop being a wuss," she told him. "Just because you're afraid of the dark –"

"I am _not _afraid of the dark!" Chandler protested.

"Chandler, _please_," Monica said, laughing; "little children have less problems than you. But what I'm _really_ saying," she added, as Chandler made a strange resentful little noise, "is that this does not count as 'evil intents and purposes'. In fact, if you look at it objectively, it actually represents the holy act of reconstruction. You know, the circle of life and stuff. It's what God wants!"

Chandler looked at her for a moment in disbelief and held up a condom. "I really don't think _this _represents the _holy act of reconstruction_, Mon, unless we're on totally different pages here."

"_Well_, Chandler," said Monica, in a tone that made no room for opposition, "unfortunately, we are _not_ married, so we can't do anything about that right now." She sidled over to the orange sofa and plopped down, unconsciously fluffing the cushions. "Hey, honey, do you think this is long enough for us to – what?"

Chandler was staring at her. He cleared his throat. "Did you say, _unfortunately_?"

"What?"

"_Unfortunately_, we are _not _married? Is that, um, _unfortunate_ to you?"

"No . . . ?" asked Monica, looking concerned and confused.

"No?"

"Yes . . . ?" she asked, scrunching up her face uncertainly.

"Yes?" Chandler asked her, looking slightly hysterical. "Yes? Yes, it's unfortunate?"

"Chandler, I really –"

"No, no, never mind, it's fine!" he said, as his voice went up an octave. "Let's fornicate on the sofa and call it a day, huh?"

"You're being really weird," Monica told him anxiously. "Chandler, you've been strange ever since we got here, if you don't want to do this, just tell me –"

"No, that's not it," he said. "Sorry. It just freaks me out. You know."

Monica smiled fondly at him. "It's okay. I shouldn't have said anything. You'd make a lousy husband and an abysmal father."

"Whew. That's good to know. Though tell that to Joey and he might think it a compliment."

Monica snaked her arms around his neck. "Could we not – discuss – Joey right now?"

"Oh, right, sorry, I know how you get jealous of him," Chandler joked.

"You are_ so_ lucky I know you well," Monica said, as he muffled her laughter with a kiss. She framed his face with her hands and smiled tenderly at him. "So where were we?"

"Do you _really_ want me to answer that question?" Chandler asked, as they swayed gently together on the spot.

"It's rhetorical, darling," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Darling?" Chandler looked skeptical. "Are we from the fifties now?"

"At least it's better than, 'Honey, I'm home!'"

"I thought you liked it," Chandler protested.

"I do," Monica said, hiding her smile in his chest. "Though scan the apartment before saying it. Phoebe thought you were hitting on her."

"Is _that_ what that was?" Chandler asked. "She kept bringing me fruit."

Monica laughed quietly. "I told her it turned you on."

"Really. And she wasn't suspicious?"

"No, it's Phoebe. And it _does_?"

"After the Carmen Miranda incident with my father, do you _really_ think so?"

"It was a wild guess, what can I say."

"You know what turns me on."

"But I wouldn't want to reveal _that, _now would I?" Monica kissed him and motioned to the orange sofa in the middle of the coffeehouse. "Hmmm?"

Chandler looked doubtful. "Isn't that – weird? I mean, our friends sit there."

"We'll flip the cushions," said Monica, grinning. "And I thought _I_ was neurotic about these things! C'mon, Chandler, show some spirit, have a little fun! We have this building all to ourselves – no one's going to bother us – why not make the most of it?" She fiddled with his shirt collar and said in a low voice, "Besides, they'll never know."

"Huh," he said, swallowing. "Huh. I _do_ like that."

"Mmmm."

"Okay!" he said enthusiastically. "Okay, let's make God happy!"

Monica pondered for a second. "I don't think condoms really make God happy."

"Okay . . ." said Chandler. "Uh, okay, then, let's make God sort of happy and sort of pissed!"

"Good." Monica laughed, and kissed him lovingly. "Good."

-

"Okay, did everyone totally have horny dreams about Central Perk last night?" said Phoebe, as the six friends drank coffee at their usual hangout the next morning. Monica and Chandler exchanged a look. Rachel hid her giggles inside her coffee cup. Unaware of Ross's sudden disinterest in his croissant, Phoebe continued, "I mean, before, I just thought – you know, Central Perk, _the coffeehouse_. Now it's like: _Central Perk_."

"My _goodness_ what a change!" commented Chandler.

Rachel shot him a look. "_I_ know what you mean, Phoebs. I just can't stop thinking about that key! It's driving me crazy!"

"Yeah," added Monica, nudging Chandler, who also said, "Yeah."

"Me too, actually," Joey admitted.

Ross looked at them disbelievingly. "Am I the _only_ mature adult here? Am I the only person here who sees the coffeehouse as the coffeehouse and not some, like – sexual hideout or something?"

"I'm afraid so," said Chandler.

"You're so _sad_, Ross," said Rachel, grinning at him. "We're all horny for a building and you're normal!"

"Oh, yeah, that's _so_ sad," Ross said sarcastically. "Oh no, look at me, I'm sane!"

"You're just jealous," said Phoebe. "And you're missing out. This is the sexiest sofa you'll ever see. Though I think Monica's could give it a run for its money in the comfy department."

"Okay, _that's _good to know."

"Ross, could you not be all _ego-testicle_ for, like, one minute?" Phoebe asked impatiently. "Now what I want you to do is reach underneath the cushions and pull out the first thing you find. Maybe you'll learn something about the sofa's history and appreciate it more."

"But –"

"No buts," Phoebe said firmly. "You need to appreciate the sofa."

Ross stared at her as though she was crazy as she nodded good-naturedly for him to continue. Cringing, Ross stuck his hand between the cushions and grasped his hand around a soft, silky material. Truly feeling the worthlessness of this quest, Ross pulled out what he had found. Monica gasped and Chandler's eyes widened. "Holy shit," he mouthed at her.

"Oh my God! Gross!" Ross yelled, dropping the panties immediately. "Oh my God, that's disgusting! Why the hell is there underwear in this sofa?"

Phoebe said seriously, "So what have you learned?"

As Ross stared incredulously at Phoebe, Rachel examined the panties. "Hey . . ." She looked at Monica. "Those were a birthday present . . . Mon?"

Monica resisted the urge to look at Chandler. Ross stopped staring at Phoebe to glance at his sister, who was looking guiltily at her hands. "Eww! _Gross_!" Ross exclaimed, looking thoroughly disturbed. "That's _disgusting_, Monica! And I _touched_ them!"

"I didn't _know_ you would!" she snapped. "I didn't even know they were there!"

Joey cackled to himself. Rachel observed Monica. "Cute waiter guy?" she asked knowingly.

"Um, yeah."

"I can't believe you did it on the sofa, Monica!" Ross exclaimed admonishingly. "See, this is why I sit in this chair over here."

"There too," Monica informed him. He jumped up.

"It's not so hard to believe," said Phoebe, shrugging. "I did it on the sofa, too."

"Me too," said Joey.

"Me three," said Chandler. Ross glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "I did!"

"Don't forget me," said Rachel.

"_When_?" Ross asked dubiously. "And _why_?"

"Rachel had the key when she worked here, didn't she?" said Phoebe. Rachel and Joey nodded.

"Yeah, usually I'm not that kinky, especially when it comes to locations," said Rachel, shrugging, "but . . . things change when you're in the mood, I guess."

Phoebe lit up. "It's like a friendship pact! All of us have had sex on the sofa, so we're bound together forever!"

"Hey, I like that," said Chandler enthusiastically. "This way, we can all gets Aids the _right way_, instead of slicing our palms and getting it through mixing blood!"

"Um, aren't you forgetting something?" Ross said in annoyance. "_I_ haven't done it on the sofa yet."

"Then you better get going, mister!" cried Phoebe.

"Yeah, Ross, what's the holdup?" teased Rachel.

Ross sputtered, "Well, it's not like I can _conjure _girls out of thin air, Rach!"

"You can't get any, you can't get any," sang Rachel.

Ross glared at Rachel reproachfully. "For your information, I _am_ the record-holder with the 'night of five times', so I don't think _anyone_ should be saying _anything_ about my sex life."

Monica whispered in Chandler's ear, "Only five?" He smirked.

"Oh, hey Gunther," said Phoebe. Gunther was standing at the back of the orange sofa, staring at them all.

"You guys are _this_ close," he said.

"What was that about?" asked Rachel, as Gunther walked off.

"No idea," said Monica. "Maybe we're being too loud?"

"Who knows," said Joey, shrugging. His eyes widened. "Wait – I hope he didn't hear about our friendship pact!"

"That most certainly _was_ what he heard," said Chandler.

They all looked at each other in alarm, before giving one unanimous shrug of "oh well" and returning cheerfully to their coffee.


End file.
